


Voltron: Defenders of Tomorrow

by RaaorQtpbpdy



Category: Voltron: Defenders of Tomorrow, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Defenders of Tomorrow, Cyberpunk, Galra Empire, Gen, Largely follows canon plot, My usual genre is fantasy I’m not gonna make up excuses for bad science, Probably G but T to be safe, Robot Lions, Science Fiction, Techno-malarkey, and because I’m not that creative, both to lessen confusion, but not entirely, i don’t change the names of alien races, made up technology is made up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 09:52:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17847158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaaorQtpbpdy/pseuds/RaaorQtpbpdy
Summary: Earth was a tiny, half evolved rock, floating around in the cosmos. On it lived a race of talking monkeys who sometimes managed to reach out and touch the swirling sea of other celestial objects floating around in the endless vacuum of nothingness. Then the Galra invaded, and the monkeys were forced to adapt quickly, but they didn't adapt quickly enough.The initial invasion was twenty years before, and any fighting ended after fourteen, when the Galra finally defeated the Earthlings. A few rebel groups appeared in the first months of the invaders' new dominion, but they were swiftly and efficiently crushed under alien boot.At least, that's what they all thought.There was still one rebel group that stood strong, underground. Sabotaging the invaders discreetly. Conspiring in secret, in code. Always fighting invisibly. They went by many names, but they worked toward one goal, impossible as it seemed. Defeat the Galra.—Originally posted on my WattPad @RaaorQtpbpdy.Oh and this whole thing is pretty much PG except for minor swearing and one (1) mention of furry porn in chapter two. None of the main themes are more mature than the original show.





	1. In the Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal is for diversity without appropriation, so please please tell me if I’m doing something wrong. I’d much prefer being called out so I can fix it to leaving it incorrect and potentially spreading my ignorance in the process. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Rain dripped onto the empty surface streets. This long after curfew, there was no one about, or at least there shouldn't have been. Neon lights in storefronts illuminated the backstreets, reflecting their bright colors on the glossy, damp asphalt. The sentries rarely came through these parts, but if they did, they wouldn't find anything amiss. The people who frequented dives like these knew how not to get caught.

Distant thunder growled in the sky, and was soon replaced by the roar of a motorcycle engine as it tore through the street. A roar that faded to a hum as the rider switched to the electric engine to draw less attention as they sped toward their destination. 

The rider knew the schedules, the patterns, and made it all the way to the coast without running into sentries. All the way to the track by the ocean. In the middle of a scrapyard far from the sentries routes. It would be highly unlikely for their games to be found out there, if they weren't so loud and flashy that is. Sparks flew and scattered across the ground, and the air was filled with an electric crackle and the smell of ozone.

"Entry or audience?" Grunted a large, beefy man with a tablet tucked under his crossed arms. 

"Entry." The bouncer eyed the newcomer's bike skeptically.

"Name?" he asked.

"Red Rider." No one used real names at these things, if they did it would be all too easy to end up in jail for illegal racing after curfew.

"Go on." Red Rider passed the bouncer and lined up in his usual place at the starting line. He was the last to arrive, a streak he didn't intend to keep. His traditional bike should have put him at a disadvantage on the magnetic track, but he was undeterred.

Looking around he saw the usual suspects at the starting line, El Diablo with his sleek black Magnecycle, some rich rebel who was all talk and no skill. Wild Child, a racer who was probably not even in their teens, and was good, but didn't have nearly enough experience to take home a win. Harlequin, who definitely didn't live up to her name, a cautious and calculating racer who had almost given him a run for his money on several occasions.

There were a couple others, but the one Red Rider has his eye on was the only other racer with a color in their name, Blue Lion. The guy was a flirt on the track and off, total player, but he was the only racer that came close to Red in skill, lucky for red though, the guys bike was even more of an old scrap heap than his own. It was thrown together haphazardly and tended to lose pieces halfway through the race. If this Blue Lion guy could get his hands on a decent cycle, Red Rider might've had a real challenge on his hands.

"It seems all our racers have arrived!" A voice boomed from above as the MC stepped out onto the track, his magnetic boots sparking as they hovered over it. "There's no newbies tonight but let's rehash the rules, shall we? Rule number one: no shortcuts, stay on the track, or you're out of the race. And two: no intentionally murdering the other racers. Everything else is fair game, but remember! Don't get caught! Racers ready! GO!" 

It was smooth sailing for about a minute, Red Rider took advantage of his combustion engine and more precise steering to take an early lead, the Magnecycles, while superior in a lot of ways, couldn't handle tight turns very well. To his surprise, Blue Lion was actually right on his tail, but at the breakneck speeds they were going, it wouldn't be long before the racer's scrap heap fell apart.

Turns out that happened sooner than Red Rider even suspected when a drone plowed into the scruffy excuse for a bike and flung Blue Lion into the air. Blue righted himself midair landing low, twin pistols already in his hands, and shot three drones out of the sky in quick succession. Red hadn't stopped flying around another tight corner. Blue sprinted to the next segment of track and snatched the side of Reds bike as he rocketed by, mounting it in one fell swoop. 

"If you give me a ride I'll point you to a safe place," Blue said gripping Red's shoulder with one hand and shooting drones and sentries down with the other.

"No! Get off my bike!"

"Come on dude, you wouldn't leave a fellow outlaw in the dust, wouldja?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Duck!" Red did, just in time for the other racer to shoot down a drone headed right for his head. "Take a hard right off the track!"

Another advantage of having a traditional bike instead of the faster, smoother Magnecycles? You weren't limited to the designated magnetic tracks. Red went off road tearing across the sands he was born on, his old house was off in the distance somewhere, he hadn't been there in a while, he should probably check on it soon, but not with this strange guy clinging to him.

"Can you go electric? This is really loud!" Red rolled his eyes, but the leech was right. Blue fiddled with something on the side of his helmet. "Great, now I don't have to scream."

"How did you find my helmet's radio frequency that fast?" Red asked after hearing the other racers voice from his helmet's interior speaker.

"Puck set me up with frequency auto lock. Left onto the backroads."

"Who?"

"Friend of mine. Left here!"

"Where are we going‽" Red demanded.

"Underground district." Red made a U-turn. "Whaaaat are you doing?"

"If we go that way we'll run into sentries long before we reach the underground."

"How do you know?"

"I know this city like the back of my hand. I know all the patrol schedules, trust me, this is the way to go."

"Oh... I'm Leandro, by the way."

"Akira."

"Gesundheit."

"My name, moron. It's Akira."

"Oh. Nice." 

"Shut up."

"You know you're kinda persnickety you know that."

"Whatever... uh those were some nice moves back there though..."

"Thanks! I've been training my butt off, so it's nice to know it's working." They reached the entrance to the underground district. There was a trick to getting the gate open, but Leandro didn't have any trouble with it.

The underground was a system of tunnels and alcoves that had once been a public transportation system, but was now a secret district of the city, away from the ever watchful eyes of the Galra and their sentries. It was home to crooks mostly, and people who couldn't afford to live anywhere else. It was underground in every sense of the word.

They rode slowly down the ramp to the underground district, and when the tunnel opened up, there was a plaza, what was once a subway station was now filled with camps and shops where illegal goods could be bought and sold. These places housed a plethora of contraband, and Akira's shiny traditional motorbike was a rare commodity, definitely a target for theft in a place like this.

"Where to now?" Akira asked, never pulling his bike to a complete stop. 

"From here..." Leandro hesitated briefly as he oriented himself. "Down the tunnel to the north." Akira revved his engine and sped over the ledge and onto the tracks laid out on the ground of the tunnel. "Veer right! And again here. Slow down, it's dark down here so it's hard to see the door."

"The door to where?" Akira asked, following Leandro's directions.

"It's a subway car service station just off the tunnels," Leandro explained. "We discovered it when we were exploring the tunnels so we got to lay claim to it. Lucky, huh? Oh! Here it is."

"Whose we?" Akira wondered as he pulled to a stop in front of a steel door.

"I'll introduce you," Leandro offered climbing off the bike and removing his helmet. In the light of the bike's headlight and the faint glow of likely toxic moss growing in the tunnels, Akira noticed Leandro's striking eyes, one a brilliant blue, the other a rich brown. "It's the least I can do since you have me a ride." 

"Uh, okay." Leandro grinned and opened up the door which had quite an elaborate looking lock, like none Akira had ever seen before. The tunnel was flooded with warm light, and the pair walked into a huge open space, with high ceilings and brick walls instead of concrete, quite the impressive place. "Wow!" The place was tastefully old, and machines, and computers, and scraps, and half finished projects were all over the place.

"Hey Leo! Where's my bike?" A large man asked loudly. He had caramel skin, stubble, and long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, as well as an orange headband

"Smashed by a drone," Leandro said apologetically.

"Come on man, you always bring it back broken but at least you always bring it back!"

"Sorry, Honey. Oh but there's some good news!" He perked up a little, grinning. "Puck! Your automatic frequency lock software worked like a charm!"

"I told you it would!" Akira couldn't see the speaker because whoever it was was huddled behind a cluster of screens with nothing visible but skinny jeans and technoboots. "There was nothing wrong with the receptors Honey, extending them would've just made it cumbersome."

"You brought a date? Who's this?" the big guy asked.

"Not a date, _A_ kira," Leandro rolled his eyes. "He gave me ride back when my—your bike got totaled."

"Not by choice," Akira added.

"Those're some sweet wheels you got there Kira. I'm Hani, but everyone calls me Honey." 

"It's Akira, actually," Akira corrected, shaking the hand he was offered.

"Heh, my bad. Anyway, is that a third gen Z class?"

"Model Zyl-348," Akira supplied with a hint of pride.

"A model what?" Without warning a pair of large, round glasses with half shaved light brown hair popped up above the mess of screens they'd been sitting behind. Not a moment later they had scurried toward the three boys to examine the motorbike between them. "Holy cannoli. Is this thing outfitted with turbo boosters?"

"It's a racing bike, so... yeah."

"Alternating electric and internal combustion engine? I'm guessing navigation and sound is connected to your in-helmet speaker?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Altergrip wheels? Seven gears? The nav system on this thing!" They whistled. "And in such a nice color too. My my you really got the works, huh?"

"You have no idea how long I saved up for this bike, there's no way I was gonna skimp out on anything."

"I respect that," the person, who only came up to about Akira's chest nodded approvingly. "Name's Puck."

"Puck's our resident super-genius," Leandro said, running his fingers through his curly undercut with an expression like his friend's genius was totally his doing. "Honey's no slouch either. And me?"

"He's the crash test dummy," Puck teased.

"Hey!" Leandro frowned. "Ignore them. Anyway, welcome to the Lions' Den. Just realized nobody's said it yet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akira/Red Rider—Keith  
> Leandro/Blue Lion—Lance  
> Hani/Honey—Hunk  
> Puck—Pidge  
> Just in case anybody was confused. Love y'all. 
> 
> <3 Raaor!


	2. The Heavens and the Earth

Earth was a tiny, half evolved rock, floating around in the cosmos. On it lived a race of talking monkeys who sometimes managed to reach out and touch the swirling sea of other celestial objects floating around in the endless vacuum of nothingness. Then the Galra invaded, and the monkeys were forced to adapt quickly, but we didn't adapt quickly enough.

The Galra invasion was fast and brutal, whole armies wiped out by the aliens' advanced weaponry. But there were three things the Galra didn't count on. 1: The tendency of the human race to rebel. 2: Human ingenuity, especially in dire situations. And 3: the internet.

Within hours there was furry porn of purple hyenas who called themselves conquerors and subsequently got... ehem... put in their place. I'm not saying this was a good thing, I do not approve, but furry NSFW artists worked fast, and were the first on the scene. Their initial creations influenced decades of anti-Galra art, so they deserved a mention.

The purple hyena rapidly became the symbol of the Galra race, usually a caricature of an arrogant, laughing creature who ended up failing miserably, and hilariously. A comical purple hyena named Zarkie was adopted as the new Wile E. Coyote in cartoons and comics, pitted against a clever Eagle who represented the human race.

Many governments launched heavy handed propaganda campaigns urging anyone able to fight against the invaders. A golden eagle gouging out the eyes of a purple hyena was a popular image, usually with a caption reminding loyal humans not to let the Galra know about invasion plans. Keep them blind to our intentions.

The purple hyena became a world wide symbol of the enemy; every man woman and child recognized it. "Hyena" became one of the worst insults around, and it was all because of the furries. Just sayin'. The power of furries is terrifying.

As much as I'd like to say that all humans were on the same page for once, I'm afraid that wasn't the case. Some groups of people hailed the Galra as gods or angels descending from the heavens to rain retribution onto the Earthlings for our sinful ways. They thought of the invasion as the apocalypse, something that had been a long time coming, and simply gave in.

Even so, nothing brings people together like a common enemy. Embargos were lifted, preexisting wars were ended, grudges were put aside, and enemies became allies as the human race banded together to fight the monsters from space.

It was the war of the worlds, but in this version the invaders didn't drop dead from poor immune systems. In this version, the humans lost. 

Most of the population was forced to submit to the Galra overlords. They forced us to work for them, but they let us live, as long as we did not resist. They imposed a curfew and stationed sentries and drones to patrol the streets. Anyone caught out after 9 o' clock was taken to work in prison camps; the rest of us just tried to survive and live the best we could under the new regime. A few rebel groups appeared in the beginning, and were swiftly and efficiently crushed under alien boot.

At least, that's what they thought.

There is still one rebel group that stands strong, underground. Sabotaging the invaders discreetly. Conspiring in secret, in code. Always fighting invisibly. We go by many names, but we work toward one goal, seemingly impossible as it may be. Defeat the Galra.

The initial invasion was 20 years ago, to be honest we still don't know for sure why they came. They do more mining then we ever did, so perhaps they're looking for something underground. It seems unlikely that they came solely to conquer.

If you're receiving this message, whoever you may be, please help us. I've included coordinates to the location of the rebels' Jericho base, encrypted of course, so good luck. I only pray that the Galra didn't intercept this message. 

I can't wait to meet you. Signing off, Puck DeVitas of Earth.

—

"They beat us there," The woman said after listening to the recorded message all the way through to the end, the faint light from the encrypted characters reflecting off her dark skin. "The Galra found a second lion."

"They haven't found it yet, Princess," The man assured resolutely. "They're still just searching. If they had found it already, they surely would have destroyed the planet. Earth is home to few usable resources, most of which are obsolete. And the people continue to resist after nearly twenty decaphoebs. Just the sort of planet the Galra would destroy the moment they no longer needed it. We still have a chance."

"You have a point, Cato." She dragged the code into the ship's decryption program. "In that case, we must go to the planet Earth immediately. I swear that we will find it before the Galra."

"I will do everything in my power to aid you, Princess Alzina."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puck DeVitas—Pidge  
> Alzina—Allura  
> Cato—Coran  
> For those who skipped the preface and wanted clarification. Love y'all.
> 
> <3 Raaor!


End file.
